The Agrista (Between the Lines Book 1) (32 page)

  The next few moments felt like hours to Cerin, trapped in conversational purgatory as his feeble attempt at words of comfort fell flat. He felt completely ineffectual to his surroundings and the people in them as he watched helplessly, knowing only pain and not how to stop it. His brilliant brain was failing him when he needed it the most, like usual.

  He watched Johanna and Chrystina in companionable silence, granting them a moment to process their grief, but he could afford to spare them little more than that.

  The illusion of peace was short-lived. Aemilius began to regain consciousness soon after. He squealed like a pig being butchered as his eyes fell on Cerin’s face, causing Cerin to slap a hand over his mouth as he shot him a warning glance.

  “Cerin! You’re d-dead!” Aemilius sputtered in disbelief. “They
told
me you were dead. Are you here to haunt me?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m very much alive,” he pinched Aemilius’ jowls for emphasis.

  “B-but...you’re transparent!” Aemilius’ large Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he audibly swallowed.

  “This stupid thing!” Cerin threw his Clamans ring to the ground and stomped it with his boot, growing fully opaque as it shattered.

  “If you’re not a ghost, why do you look so much like my arch-nemesis? Are you one of his bastards? With his lifestyle, he must have had gaggles!”

  “You’re
still
calling me your arch-nemesis? You haven’t grown up at all, have you, Emil?”

  “More so than you, it would seem.” Aemilius pursed his lips. “You still look like a child! How did you…” All the color drained from his face as a sudden thought struck him. “Oh. Oh, I see!” Aemilius cackled. “Couldn’t face old age, could you? You always were vain. Used yourself as a guinea pig, did you? Ha! I always told you that soft heart of yours would be your downfall!”

  “You’re currently in no position to judge.”

  “Enough! How do we shut off the Baindingu gas?” Johanna interjected angrily. Now was not the time for petty squabbles, and
someone
had to be the adult. As usual, the burden fell to her.

  “Why would I tell
you
that? You’ve no power over me!”

  Cerin and Johanna briefly exchanged a knowing look as they hoisted Aemilius up onto a steel table directly across from Mary, immune to his vehement protests and idle threats. Cerin busied himself sharpening Aemilius’ immaculate tools of torture, causing him to stiffly crane his neck as he persistently inquired about Cerin’s whereabouts and intentions.

  “I may be small,” Cerin gave a shrug of acceptance, “but I know exactly how to use every one of these, and how to assure that you remain conscious and painfully aware of every little incision I make,” Cerin’s soft features hardened into a scowl as he raised the scalpel into the air.

  “You don’t have the gall!” Aemilius shuddered upon seeing the glint of silver dance along the sharp edge of the scalpel.

  “You don’t know me very well, Emil. The years have hardened me. While I’ll never hurt a person that doesn’t deserve it, I’m an avid believer in justice, and revenge.” Cerin’s proclamation was the only warning he’d offered as he pressed the edge of a scalpel into the surprisingly malleable skin shrouding Aemilius’ chest cavity. Aemilius lost it at the first sight of blood seeping through the jagged gaps of the fresh incision.

  “Stop! Please, stop! I’ll tell you whatever you want to know!” Aemilius squealed. Cerin dug the scalpel deeper, yielding a sharp gasp of pain from Aemilius as he wriggled like a worm on a hook.

  “Cerin!” Johanna hissed, reluctantly bringing him back to himself as he narrowed his eyes at Aemilius. “As much as I’d like to see him hurt, the others are depending on us. He said he’d tell us what we want to know!”

  “The controls are on the right side of the room, behind the cabinets,” Aemilius wheezed.

  “If you’re lying,” Cerin warned with a press of the scalpel.

  “I’m not! I
promise
, I’m not!”

  “
If
you’re lying, I’ll disembowel you,” Cerin whispered close to his ear.

  “It’s nothing like that! See for yourself!” Aemilius croaked.

  Cerin kept a watchful eye over Aemilius while monitoring the girls with irritatingly circumspect dictations. He mentally readied himself for
any
possibility that might arise. As much as he could, anyway.

  He’d been tempted to assist them several times as they suffered the weight of the cabinets. Chrystina and Johanna struggled to slide them out and uncover the wall, but Aemilius was crafty, and Cerin was disinclined to stray too far. After Aruzhan’s tragedy, he would never make the mistake of underestimating his opponent ever again.

  Once the girls had cleared a path to the controls, Cerin let them take over as sentries while he made sense of the maze of tangled wire. It took some time, but he eventually figured out the complex coding and had fresh air pumping in through the vents to dissipate what was left of the gas.

  “We did it!” Cerin announced triumphantly.

  “I can’t believe we actually did it,” Chrystina smiled shyly.

  “We still have to go back through the maze,” Johanna reminded them, much to the detriment of the group’s morale.

  “About that, I have a plan!”

  “I believe those are going to be your last words one day,” Johanna remarked dryly, jutting her hip in irritation.

  “Is it a
good
plan?” Chrystina asked nervously.

  “Naturally.”

  “Is it a
safe
plan?” she amended weakly.

  “Why do you girls doubt me so? I’m a genius, you know!”

  “Yes, we know,” they grimaced in unison.

  “Since neither of you feels inclined to ask, I’ll tell you what it is,” he huffed, feeling underappreciated. “While I was rummaging through Aemilius’ things, I found this,” Cerin held up a reflective sphere that fit snugly into the palm of his hand. “It’s a Mirror Ball. It absorbs passing energy and reflects it back. It’s often used as a precautionary tool to test the safety of an uncharted territory. In this case, it will provide us with a surplus of energy that will fry the hidden triggers, rendering them useless.”

  “I don’t really understand...” Chrystina warily eyed the object.

  “You don’t need to understand. All
you
need to know is that it’s brilliant.” He puffed out his chest proudly, sufficed to leave it at that, much to Chrystina and Johanna’s dismay.

CHAPTER 20: REUNITED

 
T
he three of them wasted no time loitering in speculation, and hurriedly felt their way down the darkened stairwell. Never being more than a hairsbreadth apart from one another, they found safety in numbers and heightened vigilance.

  They came to an abrupt stop at the wide archway. They looked out on the maze with a renewed sense of purpose, cowed by the gyre of endless choices. Time didn’t afford them the luxury of cowardice, so they pressed on, despite the jarring impact of nerves and exhaustion.

  “We’ve made it this far,” Cerin said half-heartedly, testing the waters as he took a tentative step forward.

  He charily placed the Mirror Ball on the floor and gave it a gentle nudge with the tip of his boot. It tumbled down the path in a meandering line, leeching energy from the walls. A tenacious crackle enveloped them as it rolled forward, raising the tiny hairs all over their bodies.

  With a violent shudder and a few harsh words of warning, Cerin shakily trudged forward. He saw the object’s path clearly in his mind as if it were tangible, and followed it precisely. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he’d reached the Mirror Ball, and let out an exhalation of pent up anxiety that caused the girls to jump back at the sound of it.

  “So far, so good,” he flashed them a reassuring smile over his shoulder, but the girls focused instead on the lingering uncertainty in his tone. “Follow me. Single file. Don’t step out of line, and don’t touch the sides of the maze.” Finding little comfort in his roundabout glance and wavering tone, they hesitantly snapped into place behind him, looking to each other for strength.

  Making their way through the maze was a very drawn out, tedious process. Cerin took every precaution time would afford, and was maddeningly prudent. He never rolled the ball forward more than a few feet at a time. Each step was slow and deliberate in order to thoroughly test the ground before committing to the act of following through.

  Cerin awoke some time later to the sound of screaming, with no idea how long he’d been out. Erected pyres of twisted metal surrounded him. Chrystina was lost to the labyrinth of steel and fire, but he was able to follow the sound of her quavering voice. It was muffled and fading, lost to the undercurrent thrashing wildly beneath the roaring surf of burning debris, but it grew stronger the closer he staggered.

  A trail of implosions followed his steps. The charge repeatedly knocked him off his feet as he absently cradled the Mirror Ball close to his chest. His sole concern was finding Chrystina and Johanna, obscured by billowing towers of opaque smoke and mountains of blackened steel. 

  Johanna and Cerin had both followed the sound of Chrystina’s screams. They rushed to her side in frenzied tandem as they shared a look of horror. Her thin cotton dress had been shredded to tatters by the coils of gnarled wire twisted around her, ripping into her flesh and suffusing her pale complexion with a maroon glow. The painful pressure caused her blood to beat purple beneath her fine skin.

  They set to disentangling her at once. They gingerly snapped the wire where it thinned to threads of copper and melted rubber, yanking the loose pieces free and casting them to the scattered embers. Her now unconscious form descended upon them in a heap of rubbery limbs, knocking both of them on their backs as they suffered the brunt of dead weight draped limply across their bodies.

  “Get her to her feet!” Cerin demanded. The harsh voice sounded foreign to his own ears. When he saw Chrystina cringe from conscious effort as her eyes flung open, he went on, forcing her attention. “Form a chain!” He thrust his hand out toward Johanna as she struggled to help Chrystina to her feet. She couldn’t hear anything he was saying over the high-pitched frequency screaming in her ears, but she understood the blunt gesticulation, and somberly took his hand.

  “What are we going to do?” Chrystina broke down. The overwhelming pain and steady blood loss devoured the fading vestiges of strength and hope as her energy waned.

  Cerin clutched Johanna’s hand as if it were a lifeline. He rummaged through his satchel with his free hand, scouring for anything that might save them. He’d managed to pilfer a few useful items from Aemilius’ cabinets before they’d left the lab, but none of them did him any good
now
.

  He tore through his mental faculties in an exerted effort as he mindlessly thumbed through the useless half-empty vials. The three of them were corralled in by massive walls of burning steel. One touch had melted the skin of his palm down to raw nerves. Simply climbing out would be impossible.

  He stared into the growing flames as if they offered a solution, but the only thing he could foresee was their tragic end. He instinctively flung his arm out to shield the girls as blue-hot embers coalesced into a raging inferno, setting fire to the fragile infrastructure of hollow ash. They shielded themselves from the sudden downpour of flaming debris as the towering scaffolds creaked and moaned in protest.

  For a glimpse of a moment, he’d thought he’d glanced a silhouette amidst the endless smoke, limned with firelight. Sure he’d been seeing things, he violently shook his head to rid it of nonsense and pave the way for rationale.

  “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Chrystina said listlessly, forgetting for just a moment the blinding pain that hazed her vision and stole her breath.

  “No! Not like this!” Johanna answered sharply as her face screwed up in determination. “Cerin has a plan. Don’t you, Cerin?” she couldn’t keep the uncertainty from her voice, but pressed on with her ruthless inquiry. “Don’t you!”

  Cerin responded with a catatonic look of desperation. He fell victim to his rampant thoughts, none of which were helpful. Chrystina fell in stride alongside Johanna, crumpling into a hunched, shapeless form as she jerked forward and retched endlessly. Unable to stave off the smoke any longer, Chrystina’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as her body went limp.

  She collapsed against Johanna, dragging her down into the depths of her despair. Johanna cradled Chrystina’s head close to her heart, crying softly into her hair as if to hide her shame. Cerin brusquely turned away, unable to face the truth of what was happening to them. He had nothing. They were going to die.

  As if summoned by his dour thoughts, a beast suddenly appeared before them, not far in the distance. Perhaps Ipsimus himself, straight from the gates of the Jikon No Mon, come to drag them down to the depths of Vilhant, he thought warily. The obscure figure moved swiftly through tendrils of smoke, becoming shockingly clear as it edged closer and positioned itself beneath the dissipating black clouds.

  “Aruzhan?” Cerin took off at lightning speed and disappeared into the flames. Johanna lost her nerve with every passing moment she didn’t see his face, and struggled to come to terms with the fact that she might die here.

  “Not like this,” she repeated hysterically to herself, rocking back and forth as she mindlessly stroked Chrystina’s frizzled hair. Moments later, Cerin brilliantly emerged from the flames on the back of a towering beast.
Aruzhan!
She felt all the fear and worry drain from her body in an explosion of shaky gasps. Her face streamed with joy as she took in the Umbra’s magnificent form. They were going to live.

  Just outside of the maze, throngs of guards rushed toward the billowing smoke, adrenaline-fueled and battle-ready. Too distracted by the growing flames and prospect of bloodshed, they hadn’t even taken notice of Cerin and the girls flying overhead by Umbrack, making a beeline for the shadows as they mentally counted their blessings.

  “This isn’t going to work,” said Johanna, chipping away at Cerin’s burst of elation.

  “What do you mean?” he asked irritably.

  “Chrystina’s visibility is making us vulnerable. Cailene knows we’re here now. We can’t afford to take things slow.”

  “What would you suggest?” Cerin snorted.

  “Chrys and I will make our own way back to Slave Quarters on our own. You and Aruzhan go on ahead.”

  “Chrystina needs immediate medical attention! You’re willing to let your friend
die
?”

  “It won’t come to that. I won’t let it! Look,” she sighed. “We’ll each get to where we need to go faster on our own. Not that I’m leaning toward this option, but what are two lives compared to
millions
?”

  “You’re definitely the daughter of a rebel,” Cerin laughed cruelly, shaking his head in disapproval.

  “
You’re
definitely a pigheaded royal!” Cerin chuckled at that, causing Johanna to eventually join in with frenzied bursts of awkward laughter.

  “What if you get caught? They’ll hold you and Chrystina responsible for the fire,” he said grimly, crushing the rare lighthearted moment.

  “Those arrogant fiends don’t know one slave from the next. Besides, Cailene’s reign of terror is coming to an end, is it not?”

  Now that they were unencumbered and Aruzhan could move freely, they made haste. Aruzhan whisked through the corridors as she read the wind and road the currents. She breezed through the dungeon and the showers with astounding speed. She’d heard enough tortured screams over the past few weeks, bitterly reminded that they’d been her own as a shudder of pain ran through her. The Umbra healed fast, but she’d been half dead and half wishing she was when she finally came to.

  They’d been received in Slave Quarters with overwhelming alacrity. Aruzhan’s presence heralded a light at the end of the tunnel, at a time when circumstances were bleak. Alex was the first to scramble to his feet in startled salutations. With furrowed brows and red, glistening eyes, he gathered her up in his arms and murmured various sentiments in a foreign tongue as she collapsed into his embrace.

  The rest of their siblings quickly followed suit, huddling around the two of them as they solemnly inclined their heads and shared in a silent prayer of gratitude to a faceless deity. The Umbra harbored no such delusions of a higher power, but seeing as they’d suspended their disbelief in order to beg their sister’s return, it seemed only right to pay thanks to
someone
, miracle or not.

  Marie hid herself away in a corner, bitterly hugging her knees to her chest as she watched their blatant display of familial love. She was filled with envy and equal parts shame. She’d come so far, but still lacked what she desired most, and coveted the Umbra in secret.

  “Me too.” Laylia’s voice dragged her away from her self-effacing thoughts. “I want what you want. What
they
have.” Laylia casually gestured toward Aruzhan and the others. “Funny thing is,” she slid down the wall, settling herself on the floor next to Marie. “We
can
have that, but we deny each other, and ourselves.”

  “I suppose,” Marie said politely, but was inclined to disagree.

  “You’re being nice. You don’t think us capable,” Laylia said with a hint of a smile in her voice.

  “What are you, a mind reader?” Marie quirked a brow, unable to keep herself from grinning.

  “I
can
read people very well, but I don’t have to try with you. Your emotions are written on your face as clearly as Fallon wears her heart on her sleeve. When you’re upset, your face goes blank. It’s a Tell.”

  “Well, that’s good to know.” Marie scoffed, suddenly remembering the reason she’d been so angry with Laylia and the others.

  “Marie?”

  “Yeah?” Marie heaved an irritated sigh.

  “I’m sorry no one told you about our mother. I had no idea the others had been keeping you in the dark.” When Marie didn’t say anything, she pressed on nervously. “Had you of asked me, I would’ve told you anything you wanted to know.”

  They sat in silence for a disquieting moment, happy to have their attention stolen away by a sudden commotion.

  “Alright, alright! Let the poor gal breathe!” Agatha came bustling through the drawing crowd with a stack of warm towels. “We’re all happy Aruzhan’s back, but she still needs mendin’. Can’t ya see the poor gal’s injured?” Agatha huffed. “Great Lucidus! And in need of some clothes, too! Come with me, dear.” Agatha clucked her tongue and gingerly hoisted Aruzhan to her feet. She hastily led her off into a private room, hissing away any salacious glances lingering on her naked form. Laylia and Marie burst out laughing.

  “Laylia?”